


What I want for Christmas

by eenpointe



Series: christmas scerek fluff [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 04:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2838110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eenpointe/pseuds/eenpointe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sitting on Santa's lap definitely wasn't on Scott's Christmas To-Do list, and yet here he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I want for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Based off one of my AU ideas "I’m out shopping and my friends dared me to get in line for the mall Santa, and wow you are really cute and way too young to be Santa AU"
> 
> Thank you Elizabeth, for fixing all my mistakes!

 

 

"Aren’t you too old to be in line for Santa?”

Scott glances down, searching for the source of the voice and sees a little girl wearing a bright jumper with pig tails and wide eyes staring at him with her head tilted to the side.  He crouches down next to her, offering her a smile so big it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“No, sweetie, I’m not too old to be in line for Santa—do you know why?”

The girl’s eyes get a little wider and she shakes her head.

“I’m not too old because there’s no age limit on the holidays. You can be really young or really old and still want to sit in Santa’s lap. Santa doesn’t care how old you are, he just wants to make sure you have a good Christmas!”

Her eyes widen ever further and Scott wonder just how wide they can get—right now it looks as though they’re taking up half of her face. She blinks a few times and nods her head slowly as though Scott had just explained something complex and confusing. He gives her a reassuring smile and a light pat on the shoulder just as one of the dressed-up elves herds her over to Santa.

Scott straightens back up and looks around the busy mall, spotting Allison and Lydia standing by a pretzel cart giving Stiles disgusted looks as he shoves a cheese covered pretzel into his mouth. He still doesn’t know why he accepted their dare to get in line for the mall Santa, but he’s starting to regret it—mostly because of all the strange looks he’s getting from the parents who are waiting to take pictures of their kid with Santa.

He’s about to go forward in line (and finally get this over with) when the little boy behind him starts crying uncontrollably because his feet hurt from waiting in line. The boy’s mother starts to rush over but Scott holds up his hand to stop her. He turns to the little boy and crouches down, putting a hand on the kid’s shoulder. The boy stops sobbing but he keeps sniffling, wiping his gloved hands over his eyes and nose.  Scott lowers his voice to the gentle tone he always uses when one of his kindergarteners’ is crying or upset.

“Hey, since your feet hurt, why don’t you go ahead of me in line, okay? I don’t mind, all right?” Scott moves to the side and gives the boy a gentle push towards the mall Santa and the boy mumbles a ‘thank you’ before shuffling past him.

Scott glances up and catches the eye of the boy’s mother, who gives him a thankful nod. He returns it, beaming at her. He loves helping and cheering up kids—he’s good at it, and that’s a big part of why he loves being a teacher. It’s one of the main reasons he became a teacher in the first place.

He tucks his hands in his pockets and patiently waits for his turn, making a mental list of all the things he still needs to do before Christmas: He needs to get gifts for Allison and Lydia, he needs to help his mom put up her Christmas decorations, he needs to wrap Stiles’ presents, and he needs to decorate his classroom and think of Christmas crafts for the kids to do before winter break.  And, of course, he promised Sheriff Stilinski that he would make him a batch of gingerbread cookies.

He is pulled out of his thoughts due to one of the elves walking over to him. Her hand is covering her mouth, trying—and failing—to stifle her giggles. 

“Hey, I’m so sorry, but Santa had to take a quick—oh, you’re not a kid, good. Well, um, sorry but my grumpy ass brother, AKA Santa, needs a second to get a different beard. The last kid got snot in the one he was wearing.” She pauses, her eyebrows drawing together. “Wait, why are you in line? You look like you’re at least twenty-five.”

“I’m actually twenty-six, but I’m in line because my idiot friend over there—” Scott hikes a thumb over his shoulder at Stiles “—dared me to. Every year we each give each other a dare around Christmas, and as long as it’s not illegal, we have to do it.”

“Aw, that’s a really cute tradition,” the elf says, grinning at him. “I’m Cora, by the way, and hey—it’s funny that you got dared to do this, ‘cause a dare is the only reason my brother and I are here. Our older sister is a real bitch who knows we won’t back down from a challenge, so she figured she’d try to embarrass us. But the joke’s on her, because I’m not embarrassed at all—I’m actually having fun doing this.”

Scott notices someone moving around over the brunette’s shoulder, and he laughs and nods his head in that direction. “I’m Scott, and it doesn’t really look like your brother’s having as much fun as you!”

Cora whips around to see a rather disgruntled looking Santa returning to his seat, glaring at her. She snickers and turns back around, grabbing Scott’s arm and dragging him up to “Santa,” whispering in his ear the whole time. “Like I said, he’s a grumpy ass—but I’m sure he’ll be happier once he has a cutie like you in his lap!” She squeezes his arm one last time and gives him a slightly aggressive shove towards her brother before he can reply to her, and then she’s winking at him over her shoulder while giggling incessantly.

Scott can’t see much of his face, but he can tell that “Santa” is glaring at him as he sits down on the man’s lap. God, he feels so stupid—he’s definitely getting back at Stiles for this one. Stiles, he notices, is standing nearby, whooping and taking pictures of Scott. Lydia smacks him in the back of the head and Scott can practically hear her telling him to stop it

Scott turns his attention back to the mall Santa and is a little taken aback when he see the look on the man’s face—he looks like he’s annoyed, uncomfortable and, well, embarrassed. Scott suddenly feels guilty—what if he’s uncomfortable because of Scott? It makes sense, after all—he’s a mall Santa and he’s been dealing with little kids all day, and then there’s a grown ass man in his lap.

“Are you okay? Am I making you uncomfortable? Because if I am I’ll leave—I’m only doing this for a dare!” Scott fumbles, fidgeting and wringing his hands. He stares, alarmed, at the mall Santa as a feeling of rising panic creeps through his body.

“No, no you’re fine,” the guy says. “I’m also only doing this for a dare—if you could just please sit still, that’d be great. I’ve had to deal with enough squirmy children today—not that you’re a child.”

“Yeah, they uh—my friends,” Scott stutters, “they didn’t tell me what to do when I got here—I think they just wanted to see me in Santa’s lap… and this is awkward.” The man smiles a little and laughs softly. Scott thinks he’s in love. “Hey, um what’s your name?” he asks abruptly. “I’m Scott.”

“I’m Derek,” the guy says, “and my sister’s running around here somewhere. Her name’s—”

“Cora. I know. We talked a little bit while you changed your beard.”

Derek’s eye flash and he sets his jaw making Scott wonder if he said something wrong.  “That damn kid was wiping his nose on me,” he almost growls. “Said my beard was white like a tissue and that he was going to use it like one. I would’ve liked to slam him and rip the fake one off and show him my real beard which happens to be _very_ dark.”

Scott reaches out to tug at the fake beard, but Derek slaps his hand away. “I can’t take it off here,” he snorts. “I guess if you want to know what my real beard looks like, you’ll just have to spend time with me when I’m not working—and, speaking of work, I’m supposed to be pretending that I’m Santa Claus. So tell me, Scott—what do you want for Christmas?”

Scott gives him a glare and tries once again to take off the fake beard. “I want to see your beard, that’s what I want,” he says stubbornly.

“Stop it,” Derek complains. “You’re acting like all the little kids who don’t believe me when I say I’m Santa. The little fuckers don’t buy it so they try to rip off my—hey!”

Scott had successfully pulled down a good portion of the fake beard, and _wow_ Derek was attractive. And young. He looked way too young to be playing Santa—no wonder the kids didn’t believe him. Scott smirks as Derek yanks the beard back up and gives him a nasty look.

“Well,” Scott snickers, “I think I found out the kids don’t believe you’re Santa. You look way too young to be him.  Way too hot, too.” Derek raises his eyebrows and Scott blushes. “I—uh, I meant to think that?”

Derek huffs softly, trying to look annoyed, but Scott can see the faint red on his cheeks. “It’s fine,” he replies. “Actually, I think I know what to give you for Christmas now.”

A look of horror crosses Scott’s face, and he wonders if Santa is about to get nasty— he didn’t bargain for that. Also, they’re in front of a mall full of children. And those kids’ parents.

“Oh don’t look so horrified,” Derek snorts. “I’m not about to suck you off or anything—just give me your phone for a sec.”

Scott hesitates for a moment, but he digs into the pocket of his hoodie and hands over his phone. Derek has him put in his passcode, and then he taps on it for a few seconds and passes it back to Scott. Derek leans forward a presses a little kiss to Scott’s cheek and leans back into his seat, smirking.

“Now, Scott, I know you think I’m ‘way too hot,’ but this mall closes in forty-five minutes and there are some other kids who still want to see Santa,” Derek chides, “and you’re holding up the line.”

Scott twists around and looks over his shoulder, seeing that the line has grown twice as long as it was when he got there. He turns back around to Derek, matching the man’s smirk, and he plants a kiss on his cheek. He hops off and walks back to an opened-mouthed, staring Stiles.

“Dude,” his friend blanches, “did you just kiss Santa Claus?”

Scott grins and waves his phone screen in Stile’s face, his contact list up. “Yep,” he chirps. “And not just that—I got his phone number, too!” He brushes past Stiles, wearing a grin so big it hurts, and shoots a look over his shoulder. Derek meets his eyes and winks at him over the head of a little girl, and Scott promptly returns the wink. As he strolls away, he gets the feeling that he’s going to have a great Christmas.

 


End file.
